We Will Help Each Other
by thatoverlyobsessivefangirl
Summary: Miles checks on Hunter after Firestarter part 2. Brotherly love and advice. Because there is not enough Hunter on this website or the show! first fic, so kinda bad, but R&R! :) oneshot!


"Hey, Hunter?" I asked as I stepped into his room. I needed to make sure he was okay after today. It had been a pretty long one, and Hunter was known to keep things in, and not really talk. I guess I'm like that too, but he's my little brother, and I need to take care of him.

He was just sitting on his bed. His computer in his lap and headphones in. His face blank. Yeah, he was definitely not okay. No matter how hard Hunter tried to hide things, I knew when something was up. I guess it's because we are so much alike. Except he copes by playing video games. Me, on the other hand, I cope by getting high. I wish I was a better influence.

"Oh, hey Miles," he said, removing his headphones when he saw me. "Can I help you with something?"

"Oh, um no I was just gonna ask about you," I said, walking into the room and sitting on his bed.

"Okay," he gave me a weird look. "What is there to talk about?" He asked reluctantly.

"Are you…okay?" I asked. Maybe he had gotten the hint?

He didn't. He still had that confused look on his face. "Um, yeah. Why would I not be? You're the one who just burned down the school, and Frankie is the one that got trapped." A nod to the fact that he was pretty much invisible in the house.

I have this theory that he wishes something would happen. That he wants to do so,etching worthy of attention. He's just scared. He's scared because he's aware of the consequences, and he doesn't want to face them. That's why he always resorts back to video games. Because he doesn't know what else to do except be anything but himself.

"Exactly. That's a lot to handle." I said. Why was he making this so difficult? Why can't he just talk to me like a normal person could?

"Well I'm fine. I should be asking you if you're okay, considering what you did," he said, defensively. Again, trying to get the attention off of himself. Man, why is it so hard for him? I know he's hurting, I know he's having trouble, I just want to be there for him.

But I don't blame him. Who would ever want to talk to his crap brother who screws up all the time? Who would ever want a brother who got his dad so mad that he got a coffee mug thrown at him?

"Hunter, please just talk to me," I said, frustrated.

"We are talking right now," he said. "Why don't you stop beating around the bush and ask your real question?"

"Okay, so, um, I don't mean to be offensive but are you, okay? I know a lot has happened in the past little bit and I know I've been a terrible brother to you, but Hunter, I love you and I just want you to know that you can trust me, and that it's okay," that was not supposed to come off like that. I hadn't even asked a freaking question!

"What's okay?"

"I don't know, to have feelings? Hunter I'm not good at talking like this. I'm not a good influence on you and I know that. But I'm trying. I'm trying to be better. I'm trying not to be the screw up that everyone, including you, thinks I am. Why can't you try too?" Shit. That came out too harsh. There's no way he's gonna open up now.

"Listen, Miles, if you think you're bad at this, I'm about 10 times worse. I'm trying too. I'm sorry if maybe I'm not the smoothest talker, like you, but I promise I'm trying. Not everyone can just spit out their feelings okay? I'm not saying you can either, because look where that got you today, but do you know how many times I've tried to talk? How many times I've tried to tell someone how I'm actually feeling, and then get shot down?" He was standing now, pacing around his bedroom, almost shaking. This was not how it was supposed to go.

"Hunter, I-"

"Don't, Miles. Please, I'm just tired of being shot down whenever I try to talk about something. So I just don't. I take everything out on video games. I know it's a problem, but it's not like you're any better," he's sitting down again, next to me. I look at him, and he's looking down.

"I know I'm not. But I'm going to get better. I'm going to stop with the drugs and I'm going to get my life back. Can you do the same?"

"Miles, I want to. I really do. I've tried, but things just are not getting better. And I think that if I keep anything bottled up inside I might just explode! Sometimes I just feel like I can't even open my mouth, physically can't! And it hurts," his voice is shaking now.

"You can talk to me. I'm your brother, and I will always be here. I'm not leaving you, and we are going to do this together. Okay?"

For the first time since I walked in, he looked at me right in the eye. He just nodded. There were tears in his eyes, and when I pulled him into a hug, he just lost it. He started crying, and I just let him. I felt so guilty. I was a part of the reason for this. For him, being like this. I had to make it up to him. And I will. I'm going to help him be better, and he's going to do the same to me. We are going to help each other be okay again.


End file.
